


All Impulse and No Control

by ladyroxanne21



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: :-D, And Voldemort!, Even Dumbledore, Harry rants at everyone, Harry shamelessly struts around his dorm naked, Hee hee hee..., Hogwarts Fifth Year, M/M, Probably Crack, Snape loses control of his temper, The entire school is gobsmacked, Umbridge provokes Harry into telling her off, and then, but mostly draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2018-12-30 14:26:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12110685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyroxanne21/pseuds/ladyroxanne21
Summary: While teaching the D.A. Harry is accidentally hit with a combination of spells that removes his impulse control, making him do things he normally wouldn't.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a quick little story that hit me and I just had to share, lol ^_^

Harry felt more than a little dizzy as he opened his eyes and looked up at all the people staring down at him. They all looked very concerned with a couple of Hufflepuff girls looking downright panicked. When he gave them a faint smile, they burst out in sobs of relief.

“We're so sorry, Harry!” They assured him in a simultaneous wail.

“I think we should get you to Madam Pomfrey,” Hermione stated in concern.

Harry sat up and looked around. “I... feel fine now. More or less.”

Hermione harrumphed and crossed her arms over her chest. “It's the less I'm concerned about. Come on.”

Harry sighed in defeat and let her pull him to his feet. To his dismay, he felt a little bit woozy. It was probably a good thing she was insisting he go to the Hospital Wing.

“Er, right, so, class dismissed,” Harry informed the members of the D.A. “Not entirely sure when the next meeting will be, but we'll let you know as soon as we can.”

“Alright,” the class mumbled in agreement. “See you later, Harry.”

A few minutes later, Harry and Hermione were entering the Hospital Wing. Ron had stayed behind to help make sure that the rest of the class left in small numbers that wouldn't attract attention. Madam Pomfrey spotted Harry and sighed as if she had known it was only a matter of time before she had to treat him again.

“What's the matter?”

Harry shrugged and Hermione rolled her eyes. “We were practicing our stunning and shield charms – in our common room, just the three of us – and Ron and I accidentally hit Harry with both at the same time. Harry was knocked out – probably from the stunning spell – but he couldn't be revived with an ennervate until the third try and then seemed a bit groggy. I thought it would be best if he was looked at in case something went wrong.”

“Good thinking, Miss Granger. We'll make a proper Healer out of you yet,” Madam Pomfrey praised with a fond smile.

The Mediwitch cast a few diagnostic spells, frowning in thought. “Are you _sure_ you only used Stunning and shield charms?”

Hermione frowned in return. “Well I _thought_ so...”

Pomfrey sighed. “Then you are probably right, it's just that I'm detecting a hint of a third spell in here, and I don't know which one it is. I daresay that while mixing up a stunning and shield charm would probably be harmless, the third one _could_ potentially affect Mr. Potter adversely. That said, he seems to be fine. No pain or anything I'd need to keep him overnight for.”

“Alright,” Harry murmured in relief. “Then I can go back to my dorm. I'm feeling really tired and just want to wank and go to sleep.” He gasped when he realized what he'd said and slapped a hand over his mouth in horror.

Madam Pomfrey chuckled rather dryly. “It seems that the third spell might have removed the tact filter from between your brain and mouth. Don't worry, Mr. Potter, I'm well aware of what young men get up to in private and am not offended. Off you go!”

Feeling like his cheeks were on fire from embarrassment, Harry would have ran from the room if Hermione wasn't clutching his arm. She was also mildly pink but seemed to decide to act like Harry hadn't said anything. They walked to Gryffindor Tower quickly, chatting about the potions essay due in two days.

Everything was fine until Harry and Ron went to their dorm. Neville, Dean, and Seamus were already in there getting ready for bed. Since it was winter, the fire was roaring in the fireplace, making the room stiflingly hot. Without thinking, Harry completely stripped off and scratched his bum as he set about rearranging his bedding.

“Er... mate?” Ron asked in amusement. “It's not like you to sleep starkers.”

Harry shrugged. “It's too hot to care.”

“You're not wrong about that,” Seamus muttered, wiping some sweat from his forehead.

Harry crawled into his bed once the blanket had been rolled to the foot of the bed and his sheet was pulled back for him. “Goodnight all. Please don't try to talk to me because I plan to have a nice long wank –!” Harry cut himself off with a gasp of astonishment. “Sorry!!!”

Ron, Dean, and Seamus heckled him for a minute or so before leaving him alone. Harry had shut his curtains and firmly ignored them all until Neville decided to act like a mature friend and called out.

“Goodnight Harry, sweet dreams!”

Harry chuckled. “Thanks Nev. You too.”

The next morning, Harry was still every bit as naked as he had been when he fell asleep. He slipped out of bed and scratched his bum some more as he trudged into the en suite bathroom for their dorm. Ron raised a brow in amusement.

“Oi! Put on some clothes, mate!”

“Up yours, wanker!” Harry called back, flipping him a two fingered salute. “I'm still too hot for that!”

“Are you planning to walk through the entire castle naked then?” Seamus asked in extreme amusement.

“Might do,” Harry muttered as he had his slash, now itching his sweaty head. He'd definitely need a shower to stop feeling like an itchy ball of wool. When he was done, he felt a bit more awake, and _still_ strutted around their dorm naked.

Ron was now biting on his lip in concern. “Er... is this some weird result from being hit by spells last night?”

Harry shrugged. “It might be. Madam Pomfrey _did_ say something about not having a tact filter between my brain and mouth at the moment.”

The door to their dorm had opened as he said that and Hermione responded in agreement before squeaking in alarm at seeing Harry naked and slapping a hand over her eyes. “Sorry!!!”

Harry frowned and bit his lip as he thought this over. Very strangely, he wasn't embarrassed. At all! “Hermione, could _not_ having a tact filter make me, er... not care...? Like now, for instance. I am not attracted to you in the slightest, so I really don't care if you see me naked.”

Still keeping a hand over her eyes, Hermione stepped more fully into the room and shut the door so that the rest of their House mates didn't come over and stare through the open door. “Er... well I suppose. It could be an impulse control issue. Perhaps what Madam Pomfrey was talking about is not caring about social expectations – such as modesty, nudity, and what is or is not appropriate to say.”

“Which could explain why Harry called me a wanker,” Ron added, chewing on his bottom lip in thought. He and the rest of the boys had gotten dressed while Harry was in the shower – since Harry had been the last to wake and they'd all had their showers before him. Meanwhile, Harry was now laying shamelessly on his bed – on his stomach – swinging his legs back and forth. The general dampness of his hair and skin actually felt _really_ nice combined with the heat of the room.

Neville hummed in thought and shook his head. “I don't think that's necessarily it. Harry is actually a very nice person. Even when people are being mean to him. Sure, he can get sarcastic and snippy, be he's not the type of person to just call someone names.”

Hermione laughed softly, shifting to look at Neville with a hand along the side of her face to block Harry from her sight. “Well yes, Harry is. _However_ , he's usually in possession of a fully functioning tact filter. So maybe Harry secretly hides a snarky beast inside him that's just now being let out.”

“I can see that,” Harry stated in agreement. “I'm usually so concerned with people liking me because they often hate me for no reason,” he glanced at Seamus for a second, reminding them that Seamus had been very mad at Harry for a good portion of the beginning of the year for saying that Voldemort had returned. “That I hold back a lot of the sort of mean things I'm tempted to say.”

“So...” Ron reasoned with a frown. “You mean that the real you is a right bastard and you just keep that hidden?”

Harry shrugged. “Maybe.”

Hermione sighed. “I think I should bring you back to Madam Pomfrey after breakfast.”

“Whatever,” Harry muttered. His stomach growled, making him realize that he actually was very hungry. Only that could have prompted him to get dressed just then, since he was more or less relaxed and content at the moment. He also probably would have skived off all classes because he just did not give a fuck about them at the moment, except that if he was getting dressed anyway, he may as well attend them. It could be fun to mouth off and see if he could set a record for most points taken away in a single day. Not to mention detentions racked up.

He slipped out of bed, pulled on his school robes, and then slipped into a pair of mismatched socks that Dobby had given him at some point. Lastly, he pulled on his shoes. Ron snickered and shook his head. _Technically_ , Harry was wearing everything that was required. He just wouldn't be able to open his robes if he got hot – at least not without risking expulsion.

About ten minutes later, the boys and Hermione were walking into the great hall. Harry wasn't really paying attention to the conversation since he was so hungry that he was tempted to run ahead of the rest of them and grab the first bit of food he saw – on someone's plate or not. The moment they entered the great hall, Harry sat at the nearest part of the Gryffindor table he could reach. He then proceeded to shove food in his mouth at an alarming rate, barely chewing before he swallowed. He actually did steal a glass of milk from the person sitting next to him, who glared at him for a moment before harrumphing and ignoring him.

In just five short minutes, Harry ate almost as much as Ron ate in a half an hour – which was _almost_ as much as Dudley ate in about twenty minutes and far more than Harry was used to eating. He felt full rather abruptly and heaved a couple of times before his stomach decided that he would be fine if he stopped eating that second. He _nearly_ ignore that very good warning to finish off his apple pastry, but just then, Draco entered the hall.

Harry stood up rather abruptly, having no real idea why his feet were moving away from the Gryffindor table. His dorm mates thought he was going to the bathroom or something while Hermione wondered if he was trying to get out of going to see Madam Pomfrey. She'd drag him by his ear if she had to!

But no. Harry stopped in front of Draco – who had also stopped just a few feet inside the entrance to the great hall when he spotted Harry headed right for him. Draco looked a bit surprised and a _lot_ wary.

“Potter...?”

“Malfoy,” Harry growled, making Draco raise a brow in curiosity mixed with disbelief.

“Something I can help you with?” Draco sneered almost politely since they were in front of nearly everyone who lived in the castle and he couldn't be overtly hostile.

Harry hauled back and slapped Draco full across the face. “God you're such bloody bastard!”

Draco held a hand to his stinging cheek in shock. Too shocked to return the insult _or_ physical abuse. The entire hall was silent in shock by this point. “Er...”

Harry continued. “Always acting like you're better than everyone else when you're just a slimy git! You always talk like you think you're the only one who possesses any sort of intelligence, and you always look like anyone you're looking at smells like your goons just shat on them. I honestly have no idea how you can be such a buggering arse! Worse! How in the bloody fucking hell can you be so goddamned gorgeous?!”

The rant had Draco looking murderous until that last question, after which he was so confused that he couldn't think straight. He honestly couldn't decide if he had heard that right, or if he had just gone temporarily insane from the extremely painful slap.

“Er...”

Before anyone dared to breathe lest they miss Harry's next shouted insult, Harry grabbed Draco and seized a kiss so demanding that Draco felt he had no real choice but to return it for a few moments. Then he remembered that they were in the great hall in front of everyone and pushed Harry away rather forcefully.

“What the fuck do you think you're playing at, Potter?!”

“Language, Mr. Malfoy!” McGonagall protested as she approached them.

“Me?!” Draco demanded incredulously. “What about him???”

McGonagall gave Harry her sternest frown. “I think five points for each swear word – which is thirty by my count from Gryffindor and five from Slytherin – and detention for Mr. Potter for that shocking display of violence. I expect you to go straight to my office to discuss this –”

“Shut up you old –” Harry's impertinent roar was cut off by Hermione slapping a hand over his mouth and practically strangling him as she fervently apologized.

“I'm _so sorry_ Professor! Harry was hit by three different spells last night, and according to Madam Pomfrey, the combination has removed his impulse control. He doesn't really mean any of this.”

Harry was trying to argue with his best friend. To insist that he meant every word. She countered by holding onto him in a near death grip.

“Wait,” Draco blurted out, looking at least half gobsmacked. “You're saying that Potter is acting on every impulse that crosses his mind???”

Hermione bit her lip, and rather than respond, dragged Harry out of the great hall. He finally managed to break free of her grasp and the silent hall could just barely make out a couple more swear words before McGonagall stepped out of the hall and closed the door with a flick of her wand – Draco had slipped back out of the hall behind her.

“Let go of me, Mione, before I hex you!”

“Harry, you're not thinking straight! I need to get you to Madam Pomfrey!”

“I don't want to go to her! She'll make me stop doing whatever I want!”

“She'll fix you before you push everyone you love away!”

Harry now had his wand out, but Hermione was quicker.

“Diffin –”

“STUPIFY!” Hermione cried out over the Severing Charm Harry was trying to cast on her wand hand. With an exhaled sigh that suggested that she was used to dealing with people trying to get the best of her in duels, she rapidly followed up with a Mobilicorpus. Then she marched along, magically carrying Harry in front of her. “Sorry again Professor! I'll get him to Madam Pomfrey and you can give him a thousand detentions for his bad behavior when she fixes him.”

McGonagall chuckled very softly for a moment as she followed Hermione. “I'm glad to see that you were prepared, Miss Granger. I must confess that I was too shocked to stop Mr. Potter and am very glad you did.”

“Well, Harry hasn't been himself all morning, so I sort of was prepared,” Hermione replied with a shrug.

“Twenty points to Gryffindor for sheer preparedness. Is there something you need, Mr. Malfoy?” McGonagall asked when she realized that Draco was lurking in the background and following them.

Draco exhaled in aggravation, but shook his head. He abruptly spun around and stalked back toward the great hall. It was open again by this point with a couple of Professors watching to see if they would be needed – but they _hadn't_ seen what had happened, so were curious as to why Harry was unconscious and being levitated away.

Once back inside the great hall, Draco smirked and gestured over his shoulder. “Ha! The not so great Harry Potter was just utterly defeated by a _girl_! Not so tough after all, is he?” Harrumphing in a sort of mildly malicious glee, he made his way to the Slytherin table.

Everyone was more or less silent as they waited to see if Malfoy had anything else to say. After a moment, Blaise droned: “So... what was it like being snogged by the so-called golden boy?”

Draco had been sincerely hoping that everyone would forget that. He dropped his forehead into his palm and hissed in frustration. If he were honest, if had been _glorious_! “Disgusting!”

“ _Riiiiight_...” Blaise drawled as he rolled his eyes.

“The worst moment of my life,” Draco added.

“Uh-huh,” Blaise stated in a way that meant the exact opposite of mild agreement. “Is that why you snogged him back?”

“Oh just shut it!” Draco roared as he loaded his plate with food. His face was rather pink now and he sincerely wished he could just hide under the table or something.

“Sure sure,” Blaise agreed with an impertinent grin. “Whatever you want.”

After that, the hall devolved into whispered speculation and giggles as they discussed what exactly it meant that Harry Potter – almost immediately upon losing his impulse control – had first smacked and then snogged the boy he claimed to hate. As for Ron, he was now holding his head in his hands and fervently praying that he would _stop_ uncontrollably imagining exactly what it was that Harry had probably wanked to last night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my awesome readers, if Harry ends up being hard to cure, what sort of things would you like to see him do uncontrollably? lol! :-D
> 
> I feel like there should be a running gag where every time Harry sees Draco, he just can't stop himself from slapping the gorgeous git before snogging him senseless, lolololol XD


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Professors have been instructed to ignore Harry until he regains the ability to control his angry impulses, even so, class with Umbridge does not go so well.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so when I write - especially anything that takes place during books - I like to remain in canon as much as possible, except for the the obvious Drarry, lol. (To me, Drarry is plausible because I *can* fit most of it into canon, lol.) So, I nearly abandoned this story because I couldn't quite fit all the suggestions into canon. Then I decided that just this once, I'd throw canon out the window and just write what comes to mind. :-)

“Can anyone tell me, _theoretically_ , what spells might be useful should you find yourself alone with a werewolf? Anyone? Mr. Potter?”

Harry glared at Umbridge. “Don't ask me anything at all unless you want to hear every little thought that crosses my mind – true or not.”

Umbridge grinned at him rather avidly. “Oh yes, we've all been instructed by the Headmaster to indulge in and ignore your little affliction until Madam Pomfrey can figure out the cure. So, let me indulge you. What absolute rubbish do you have to say on the subject of spells that  _might_ be useful against a werewolf?”

Sighing, Harry stood up and looked at the wall behind Umbridge in a futile attempt to minimize the trouble his mouth was about to get him in. Make no mistake, he didn't give a flying fuck about detentions, but he thought he should try to feel bad about losing so many House points for Gryffindor.

“If I were to find myself alone with a werewolf – I'd probably ask him to teach me more actually useful defensive magic. I _assume_ you mean if I were to come across a fully transformed and _unmedicated_ werewolf who wants to make me his first course. In that case, I'd probably try a stunning spell along with a shield spell to protect me from scratches and bites. That'll only work if I notice the unlucky sod _before_ he leaps on me, knocking me off my arse and trying to tear my neck open – and not in a kinky way. In that event, I'd have to repeatedly kick him in the bollocks and wrap my hand and arm in my jacket or robes and shove my fist straight down his throat so that he _can't_ bite me and might even choke to death. That said, I'm nearly positive that you expect me to use an Avada Kedavra on him so that there'd be one less filthy creature tarnishing the good name of wizard kind.”

“Hem!” Umbridge harrumphed, clearly longing to dock points for sheer flippancy. “As much as I hate to admit it, there is some good advice in your crude rant. If a werewolf was coming at you ready to kill or maim you, the Unforgiveable and completely illegal Killing Curse _might_ be able to protect you – as might shield charms. That said, the chances of any one of you casting a Killing Curse successfully is so low that attempting to do so would probably waste any time you'd be wiser using to cast spells calling for help from professionals. More to the point, your best defense spells against werewolves are detection spells. If you even faintly _suspect_ a person is a werewolf, covertly casting a detection spell on him when he is pretending to be human and harmless, and then reporting him to the authorities to apprehend is _far_ more effective and safe for everyone. You see, Mr. Potter? Not _everything_ has to be a dramatic and hostile battle.”

Harry snorted derisively. “No, but telling us to use a detection spell on everyone we don't like isn't helping either.  _Especially_ since you aren't even bothering to teach us  _how_ to use the spell. Plus, the chances that we'll come up against a transformed werewolf that no one thought to check is still real enough that we should probably know useful spells for that instance – and not just  _theory_ but actual practice!”

The entire time, the rest of the class had been watching Harry rather breathlessly. At the moment, he was the only one who could  _dare_ to say any such thing to Umbridge without risking expulsion. Rather than get upset, as they all expected, she simply sighed and rolled her eyes.

“I ask you again, Mr. Potter, _why_ would any student ever _need_ to use such spells _in my classroom?_ Do you honestly expect to be attacked in this school?” She giggled and shook her head, clearly finding the idea absurd.

“Honestly, yeah, I do,” Harry stated flatly. “Hermione was attacked by a troll in our First Year – the same year that Professor Quirrell was possessed by Voldemort and tried to murder me with his bare hands. The Second Year–”

He was cut short by Umbridge shrieking: “I have told you over and over to  _not tell lies_ !!!”

Harry whipped out his wand and cast a Silencing Charm on her. “You're going to listen to me, you bitter old hag, and  _maybe_ you'll fucking understand that I  _am not telling lies_ ! I'll immobilize you as well if I have to! In my Second Year, Voldemort's diary possessed a good friend of mine and he nearly came back – trying to steal her life in the process. He did his best to kill me too and I have the scars to prove it!” Harry roared as he held up his arm to show her the bite marks from the basilisk.

Huffing, he continued. “Not to mention, that same year, my Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor – Lockhart – removed all the bones from my arm  _and_ tried to Obliviate me! Third Year, I was by all appearances hunted by a man who had broken out of Azkaban, attacked by dementors on several occasions, and yes, nearly savaged by a werewolf – one, who I might add, I genuinely love, admire, and respect. One who would never harm a hair on my head when he remembers to take his potions rather than be distracted by murderous old friends!”

Harry exhaled a huff, almost sounding like he was hissing or speaking in parseltongue, although he wasn't. “In Fourth Year, I was repeatedly subjected to the Imperius Curse by a Professor who – while actually doing a bloody good job of teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts – just so happened to be a convicted Death Eater named Bartemius Crouch Jr. He  _also_ rigged my entire status as a School Champion so that he could make sure I touched the Triwizard Cup and was transported to a graveyard in Little Hangleton where Voldemort ordered Peter Pettigrew to murder Cedric Diggory before harvesting my blood to resurrect himself.” He held up his other arm. “I've got the scar to prove that too! So, forgive me, you vile, evil, nasty bitch, but  _yes_ I do actually fucking expect to be attacked in this school, and if history is any indication,  _yes_ I expect  _you_ to do the attacking – you know, since  _I must not tell lies_ .”

Now that Harry was finished, he simply glared at her in silence. More than half the class was biting their lips in an attempt to not start wailing, all of them certain that they were about to lose every meager point they still had left. Others were trying to hide their excitement at seeing a teacher who very much deserved it get so thoroughly called out on her bullshit. Hermione looked torn between the two camps.

Taking a moment to compose herself, Umbridge cast a nonverbal spell to end the one Harry had cast on her. “Well! Since I must make allowances for your  _condition,_ I am afraid that I  _won't_ be able to have you expelled for using magic – essentially attacking  _me_ !  _However_ I can and will give you detentions with me. I  _would_ say one for every lie you just told, not to mention vulgarity you spouted, but I lost count at some point. So, hmm... shall we say four? One for each year that you insist my predecessors have attacked you. Yes. Now.  _Sit down_ , Mr. Potter, before I have you sent to your Head of House to serve additional detentions with her!”

“You know what?” Harry asked, deceptively cheerfully. “I think I _will_ go report to Professor McGonagall. Having her put me in extra detentions is _far better_ than listening to your bloody useless babble. See you tonight?”

Glaring, Umbridge said nothing as Harry grabbed his bag and left the room. Taking a few deep breaths, she regained control. “Well, now that the deranged  _troublemaker_ is out of the room, we'll be able to have a far more productive lesson. Shall we? Turn to page 394 and read about the theory behind detection spells...”

 

***

 

Despite what he said, Harry did  _not_ go directly to McGonagall – she was currently teaching a class anyway. Instead, he stalked through the castle, heading vaguely in the direction of the Hospital Wing. Part of him probably wondered if the Mediwitch had come up with anything even as the rest of him fervently didn't care. To his surprise,  _just_ when he could see the Hospital Wing at the end of the corridor, Draco emerged from it, looking over his shoulder as he said, “I'll come check up on you later – probably after dinner.”

“You foul, evil, slimy git!” Harry burst out, running toward Draco as the door to the Hospital Wing swung shut. “You fucking _know_ that I'm telling the truth and Umbridge is just being a power hungry bitch, so _why_ do you pretend like she's right?!”

Draco took a step back, but not wanting to run into the Hospital Wing like a coward, forced himself to stand up rigidly straight and sneer at Harry. “You're clearly deranged if you think I know anything of the sort,  _Potter_ .”

By this point, Harry had arrived in front of Draco – who had inadvertently pressed his back up against the wall next to the door. Harry hauled back and slapped Draco hard enough that he would have fell over if he hadn't been supported by the wall. Draco pressed a hand to his cheek, once more shocked by this even though all the signs had pointed to this exact outcome.

“God! You make me want to strangle you, and punch you in the teeth, and shove you up against a wall and snog the buggering hell out of you! Why the bloody hell do you have to be so confusing?!” 

Before Draco could come up with a sarcastically witty response to that, Harry grabbed Draco's hands so he couldn't reach for his wand and hex Harry, and slammed them into the wall on either side of Draco's head. Then he stole a kiss so brutal that Draco almost felt like his mouth was being raped. But...

In a good way.

If that was possible.

Draco made a soft noise; a sort of grunt of longing and disbelief. He surrendered to the moment and returned the kiss. If he had  _any_ ability to think, he'd have been grateful that there were no witnesses this time. Later on, he'd firmly tell himself (as many times as it took for him to believe it) that he'd returned the kiss simply because he had no choice in the matter. That Harry was as good as forcing himself on Draco, no matter that Draco seemed to be enjoying every second of it.

How long this went on, neither could say for sure. They both seemed to get completely lost in the kiss that went on and on. There was no real technique to begin with. Harry  _clearly_ had very little experience in this area, but slowly, subtly, Draco taught him what to do, swirling his tongue around Harry's invading one before daring to explore the ridges on the roof of Harry's mouth. Harry grew slightly gentler, curiously feeling the underside of Draco's tongue and the inside of his bottom teeth. Just when they were swirling their tongues around each other in a nearly friendly meeting of equals, a class let out on the floor above them and pulled them both from the utterly non-magical spell of basic human biology.

Harry pushed himself away from Draco with a soft roar of frustration. “I can't stand you, Malfoy! Stay the fuck away from me!”

Draco gaped at Harry's rapidly retreating form for a moment before shouting after him. “Me stay away from you?! You're the one who assaulted me! Bloody barbarian!!!”

Blaise startled the bejeezus out of him a moment later by casually drawling. “Well, I  _was_ going to check on Goyle, but now I'm wondering if you're aware that you spent the last...” He checked his expensive gold watch. “Oh... at least fifteen minutes snogging Harry bloody Potter.”

Draco belatedly realized that his hands were still up against the wall and lowered them. Rubbing his sore wrists with a blush, Draco wouldn't quite look at his fellow Slytherin. “Er... I'm quite sure you are exaggerating things. The sodding boy who lived attacked me again!” He pointed to his left cheek – which was now glowing bright red in the shape of a hand print. “I had no choice in the matter!”

Blaise snorted in amusement and shook his head. “ _Riiiiiight.....”_

Draco glared at him. “It's true!”

“Uh-huh.”

“At least that's my story and I'm sticking to it, and you'd better not say one word of this to anyone or I'll hex your tongue to your arse!”

Blaise grinned devilishly. “Kinky!” Then he dropped the subject and gestured with his head toward their next class. Relieved that the subtle heckling had stopped, Draco nodded and led the way.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm mulling over an epic showdown with Snape next, lol :-D


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite all precautions, Potions class with Snape does not go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's probably a good thing Dumbledore refuses to expel Harry, lol.

Harry got through most of his classes without too much trouble by bringing something to play with and focusing on it. Or else he'd doodle. Sometimes he'd actually take notes. In any case, so long as he had something interesting to distract him, he kept his mouth shut and didn't lose points or earn more detentions.

_Potions_ class, however, was going to be nearly impossible to get through for so many reasons. Thus he and Hermione took several precautions. First, she cast a spell on him to narrow his vision so that he could only see that which was literally in front of him – such as the work table and potions ingredients. Second, she cast a silencing spell on him so that even if he burst into obscenities, no one would be able to hear him. They'd be able to see him shouting, but no words would come out.

Lastly, Madam Pomfrey cast a spell on Harry that would make him fall asleep if Hermione (and only Hermione) said a certain word. Harry didn't want to agree to that at all, but his alternative was being locked in his dorm until they cured him. This was the worst fate Harry could think of, so he reluctantly agreed, thankful that Ron didn't insist on having the power to make him sleep too because he might just be tempted to murder his best mate if he ever actually used the spell on him. Hermione was different in that he considered her like a sister, and thus someone that  _should_ have a little bit of responsibility to rein him in if needed.

Of course, that didn't mean he liked the idea, nor did it stop him from grumbling about it whenever he saw Hermione. She did a fairly good job of ignoring him about it though. She also didn't abuse the spell, saving it for when Harry looked like he might get violent.

Therefore, in Snape's class, Harry sat at a table in the back with his attention on his potion as much as possible. It was a general contraceptive potion that made the drinker infertile for 12 hours, which theoretically _should_ be more than enough time, even for horny teenagers. Snape sneered a warning that even though this was a potion they were required to learn at the Headmaster's insistence, they were expected to _not_ _need_ the potion until they were well out of Hogwarts, but – incidentally – if they had older siblings or cousins who needed the potion but couldn't afford to buy it from the apothecary (and were too dim to make it themselves), Madam Pomfrey had a large stock in the Hospital Wing and handed it out with no questions asked.

This potion made Harry inexplicably interested. It might well be the first time he was truly devoted to getting the potion right. Not to mention, because of the spells on him, he couldn't truly pay attention to anything else anyway.

Next to him, Hermione blushed a vibrant red and turned away slightly so that Harry couldn't see her as she raised her hand. She didn't want to distract him or call his attention to their Professor, although he would hear him speaking. Snape cast her a displeased look as she waved her hand rather insistently.

“Yes, Miss Granger?”

“Er, Sir... This potion is only useful in preventing unwanted pregnancies. What about, er, you know, erm, well, transmittable infections...?” She was glowing quite rosily by this point.

Snape sighed with an air that he would obviously rather pull off all his nails than talk about this, but it was a question he was asked every time this potion was made. Also, as Head of Slytherin, he was often asked such questions by his more cautious (and slightly braver) students.

“I suppose that if one was planning to attend a particularly debauched party or place where one could not take the time to cast a simple detection spell – or risk casting it in front of muggles – then yes, there is a potion to provide protection against anything transmittable for approximately 48 hours. That said, it is _far_ more responsible to simply have a conversation discussing such things in which detection spells are cast and anything transmittable _treated_ before putting oneself in the situation where such a potion is needed. If you wish to know anything else on the matter, ask your Charms Professor to teach you the relevant spells, or talk to your Head of House. It is _her_ responsibility to ensure that none of you foolish Gryffindors are _unprepared_ for any eventuality.”

“Yes sir. Thank you, Professor,” Hermione murmured meekly, relieved to be done with the topic.

Harry tugged on Hermione's sleeve and tapped on a piece of parchment he had written a question on. She read it and softly hissed: “Harry, no!” As she shook her head.

“Is there a _problem_?” Snape growled darkly.

“Er, no sir,” Hermione denied fervently. “It's just that...” she took a deep breath. “I cast a silencing spell on Harry to prevent more outbursts, and so, he can't ask his question on his own.”

“Oh, by all means, let us hear what Potter's question is,” Snape prompted silkily, which was a warning sign if there ever was one.

Hermione took a deep breath in, chewing on her bottom lip and wringing her hands. She  _clearly_ wished she was currently being swallowed up by the Giant Squid at the bottom of the Black Lake.

“ _Miss Granger_?” Snape pressed in a low growl.

“Er... Harry asks: How would you know anything about debauched parties, and more importantly, how many infections did you spread before you were banned from such parties?” Hermione promptly put her hands along the sides of her face and studied the floor so that she didn't have to see the look of rage on Snape's face. Also, she could pretend not to hear the snickers from some of her classmates.

Snape couldn't decide whether to be affronted or amused. He decided – for the first time ever – to be amused and simply  _pretend_ to be affronted. “Our Headmaster has instructed all of the Professors to  _ignore_ Potter's bad behavior,  _claiming_ it to be the result of an accident and out of his control, but I see no difference from his usual arrogant behavior. Therefore, Potter, you'll be serving detention with me tonight. However, I shall compromise by not taking any points away.”

Harry called Snape a name that no one could hear but couldn't be complimentary in the slightest judging by the look on his face.

“What was that?” Snape asked in a tone of challenge.

Harry repeated himself, but still couldn't be heard. Snape cast a Finite Incantatem – which ended both the silencing spell and the limiting vision spell, but not the spell cast by Madam Pomfrey, which had a very specific counter to it. Harry stood up.

“I _said_ you're such a complete bastard, _sir,_ that I have no idea how you haven't been sacked. You're a dismal teacher, too busy bullying kids to see that the _reason_ no one learns anything is because of _you_! Except for your precious Slytherins, of course. _They_ all do well enough because you actually treat them decently. I'd _say_ it was unfair – and _blatant_ cheating on your part when it comes to the House Cup – but since no one else can stand them, it probably balances out in the end. Honestly, without your sheer favoritism, they'd probably end up in last place each year.”

“Are you quite done, Mr. Potter?” Snape asked in a deceptively mild tone of voice. He took a step away from his desk, closer to Harry.

“No sir, I could go on and on,” Harry stated with a shrug, also taking a step away from the work table he was standing next to.

“I would highly suggest that you don't,” Snape sneered, taking another step toward Harry. “Unless you are so arrogant as to believe that you are above the burden of responsibility for your words and actions – exactly like your father!”

“You shut up, you self-important shit!” Harry roared, taking a couple of steps in Snape's direction. “I _don't even remember_ my dad! For all I know, he could have been a Saint or he could have been the devil incarnate! I will never know! And so, I cannot possibly be anything like him! And _you_ are the lowest sort of person imaginable for hating me from the moment we first met simply for looking like him! I was _an innocent child_! I was raised by people who kept me locked up and tried to bully the magic right out of me! What I _needed_ was a decent role model to look up to, but you couldn't be arsed to care about the actual welfare of your students, could you?!”

“So you think I should have coddled you?!” Snape roared in return, stomping ever closer to Harry. “You think you should be treated as special simply because you're a celebrity? Whether you know it or not, you are _exactly_ like your father! _He_ always thought everyone should treat him as something special just because he had rich parents who doted on him atrociously. He was a bully who thought he was a Saint, and _you are just like him_!”

Harry pulled out his wand. “ _Don't talk about my father that way_ !”

“Or what? You'll hex me? I'd like to see you try!” The two of them were practically toe to toe now, and Harry was filled with so much rage that he switched his wand to his left hand so that he could use his right to punch Snape right in the nose. The whole class, which had been mostly silent because they didn't dare _breathe_ during this exchange, now gasped in utter shock.

Snape visibly shook with the effort of restraining himself from returning the punch. He grabbed Harry's collar, clearly longing to shake him. Before Snape could decide between the Cruciatus Curse and strangling Harry to death, Hermione smacked herself on the forehead and leapt to her feet.

“Flibbertygibbit!” She shouted, her wand at the ready to catch Harry, who promptly passed out and fell to the ground – effectively pulling free from Snape's grasp. She levitated Harry toward the exit of the dungeon. “I'm so sorry, Professor! I was supposed to bring Harry to Madam Pomfrey the _moment_ he lost control. I... just... forgot...”

Snape watched in silence as they left the room. It took him a few deep breaths to regain his composure, and when he did, he ordered the rest of the class to finish their potions. The first moment he could, he stepped into the supply cupboard to give himself a moment of privacy. He was more than a little ashamed that he couldn't control himself better. Even so, he was rather proud of himself for not succumbing to the urge to punch Harry in return. Never in his life had he used violence on a student, and he didn't want to start now.

Later that night, for detention, it was just the two of them. No witnesses...

“The Headmaster has asked me to redouble your Occlumency lessons – seeing as how your current utter lack of control is having disastrous consequences for you. Personally, I don't care if you are in detention for the rest of your time here at Hogwarts, but it's not _my_ opinion that counts in this matter.”

Harry growled, but before he could say anything, Snape cast Legilimens on him. Harry leapt to the side to avoid it. Secretly, Snape was a tiny bit impressed. With no impulse control, Harry acted before his thoughts fully formed, leaving Snape at a slight disadvantage. Thus, this session turned into a duel with Snape trying his best to get into Harry's mind and Harry doing his best to hex the Professor within an inch of his life. Snape was entirely glad he had moved everything important out of his office as a jar of desiccated beetles exploded behind him.

When it became apparent that nothing useful regarding Occlumency was going to happen – and growing more tired from the long duel than he wanted to admit to – Snape growled in frustration and dismissed Harry. “Get out! And shut the door behind you when you go!”

“Yes sir!” Harry yelled flippantly as he stomped toward the door, panting heavily from exertion. He took advantage of the fact that Snape had turned to survey the damage to his office by flipping him a two fingered salute before slamming the door shut as forcefully as he could.

To his surprise, Draco was waiting outside the office. Draco also looked surprised for a split second before remembering that Harry'd had detention and rolling his eyes at his own idiocy. He also stood up rigidly straight and braced himself for another resounding slap across the face. Why oh why hadn't he brought Crabbe and Goyle with him?

Sure enough, Harry promptly looked so murderous that it was almost visible, like a crackling fire surrounding him. “You bloody gorgeous bastard! How dare you put yourself in front of me?! I should tie you to my bed so that you  _can't_ get in my way ever again!”

“Er...” Draco seriously had to wonder if Harry was being kinky with that suggestion. The idea was disconcertingly appealing. This mini mental battle distracted him just enough that Harry was able to grab his hands and slam them into the wall again as he _demanded_ a kiss so thorough that it was hard to think straight.

Draco relaxed and let himself enjoy the snogging.  _Apparently he no longer has the impulse to slap me, just kiss me_ . This wasn't such a bad thing, even if they were likely to be discovered by all of Slytherin House at any moment. 

He didn't actually notice when Harry released his hands. It wasn't until Harry's hands stroked a long line down his back to grope his arse that Draco realized that there was no reason for his hands to be up against the wall anymore. He let them fall onto Harry's shoulders for a couple of seconds before tangling them in Harry's thick and coarse hair. It was softer than it looked.

When he realized that all of the blood in his body had inappropriately traveled south, Draco gathered up enough wits to push Harry away just enough that they were no longer kissing – although they were still somewhat pressed together and glaring at each other very intensely. There was just no way in bloody hell that he was going to  _frot_ with Harry in the middle of the corridor outside Snape's office!

Harry responded to the interruption by growling. “I told you to stop being so damned confusing, you buggering arsehole!” He followed that up with a slap that had Draco sighing in frustration even as he put a hand to his cheek.

“Watch it, Potter, or I'm going to start slapping you back! I don't care if you _are_ cursed, or whatever, you can't treat me – _a Malfoy_ – like that!”

“I can't help it!” Harry protested with a frustrated hiss. “I just hate you so much that it's all I can think about!”

“Yeah?” Draco asked with definite interest, although he tried his best to sound bored.

Harry ground his hips into Draco's, realized what he'd done, and flushed in embarrassment. He abruptly spun around and raced off, pushing his way through a small crowd of Sytherins who'd just come around the corner.

Blaise watched Harry run off for a moment before slowly looking over at Draco. Crabbe and Goyle looked like they weren't sure if they should go after Harry or let him get away. Pansy, Theo, and Millicent exchanged incredulous looks.

“Did Potter slap you again?” Blaise asked with a much too gleeful and knowing smirk, since Draco was still pressing a hand to his cheek.

“Yes,” Draco ground out unhappily. “At this rate, I'm going to have to complain to my father until he insists that Potter be expelled!”

The looks all the Slytherins except for Crabbe and Goyle exchanged this time were a little  _too_ knowing for Draco's liking. “Oh shut up!” He roared preemptively before storming back toward his dorm – completely forgetting what it was he wanted to talk to Snape about in the first place.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... if I decide to have Harry give Dumbledore a piece of his mind, is there anything *you* think Harry should vent about? Since I've thrown Canon out the window, pretty much anything goes, lol!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not *all* of Harry's impulses are broody, lol! :-)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, the rant at Dumbledore is not in this chapter. I have so many good suggestions that I'm still thinking it through :-D

Harry was so happy that Madam Pomfrey hadn't yet insisted that he stay in the Hospital Wing that he was celebrating everyone else going to Hogsmeade by remaining in his dorm. At first, he'd wanked once or thrice to images of Draco with a hand print on his cheek. Then – since he was already naked and it was too hot to care about getting dressed – he took a shower and wanked again.

Strutting around his dorm naked felt really good as, once again, the heat from the fireplace combined with the dampness of his skin to feel almost perfect. He was so content that he started humming. Before he even realized that he was humming his favorite song, he burst out into the lyrics.

“Nah, na na na nah, na na na nah, na na nah, na na nah, na na na nah... Nah, na na na nah, na na na nah, na na nah, na na nah, na na na nah... [Here comes the Hotstepper](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eEJ2b6IaGWU) – murderer – I'm the lyrical gangster – murderer – pick up the crew in-a de area – murderer – still love you like that! Murderer! No, no, we don't die, yes we multiply, anyone press will hear the fat lady sing, act like you know, Rico, I know what Bo don't know, touch them up and go, uh-oh, ch-ch-chang-chang!”

“I love that song,” Dean blurted out when he walked into the dorm and heard Harry singing. He looked away when he noticed that Harry was naked and dancing (shaking it quite shamelessly) on his bed as he sang.

“Great!” Harry cheered as he jumped off his bed. “Sing it with me!”

“Alright, but only if you at least put some pants on or something,” Dean bargained.

“Deal!” Harry gushed happily, summoning a pair of pants with the wand that had been tucked behind his right ear. The moment he was dressed, he gestured to Dean. “Nah, na na na nah, na na na nah.”

Dean joined in with a grin. “Na na nah, na na nah, na na na nah!” The two of them hopped around their dorm in a decently good impression of hip hop dancing as they sang. They really got into it, both surprised to realize that they'd actually memorized the words at some point and didn't stumble over them. Since the lyrics themselves repeated a few times, it was easy enough to just keep repeating them on a sort of infinite loop. Until they decided to move on.

Which was how Ron, Seamus, and Neville returned from Hogsmeade to find Harry and Dean with their arms around each other's shoulders, belting out – badly and at the top of their lungs:

“We don't need no education... we don't need no thought control... no dark sarcasm in the classroom... teachers leave those kids alone... Hey! Teacher, leave them kids alone! All in all, it's just [another brick in the wall](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5IpYOF4Hi6Q)! All in all, you're just another brick in the wall!”

Harry was suddenly grateful that his cousin had a habit of listening to music far too loudly, because it meant that Harry had heard it all too. Apparently enough to remember it fairly clearly. Thus, he and Dean had a lot of favorite songs in common.

Ron looked rather amused. “Er... is this a muggle thing we've never heard of before?”

“Actually, yes,” Seamus interjected. “Since me da's a muggle, I know a lot of things muggles like. This song's pretty famous.”

Harry beckoned to Seamus. “Sing with us!”

“Er... alright,” Seamus agreed because Dean was doing it and looked like he was having a lot of fun. Ron and Neville joined in when they'd learned the rather easy to remember lyrics. It wasn't too long after that that Harry found himself (still in his pants) standing on a table in the Gryffindor common room, leading _everyone_ through the song. After a few renditions, someone (a muggleborn) suggested that they sing the hottest new favorite song from [Oasis; Wonderwall](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6hzrDeceEKc).

Which was how purebloods and those otherwise raised in predominantly wizarding households learned that group karaoke was actually pretty fun. Especially when they got a chance to teach some of the more popular wizarding songs to the muggleborns. All in all, it was a fairly raucous weekend.

 

***

 

Harry was practically running – Ron and Hermione rushing after him – as he headed toward the great hall for dinner. It had occurred to him rather suddenly that he was hungry, and now he  _couldn't wait_ to load up his plate and shovel it all in his mouth. He might just forego everything that wasn't treacle tart, come to think of it.

So unexpectedly that it startled Harry into a full stop, Draco landed on the floor in front of him.

“Alright there, Malfoy?” Harry asked with a frown of concern as he held a hand out to help the git up. Draco was too busy glaring at something to do anything else, which prompted Harry to look over and find a group of Slytherins standing there sniggering behind their hands. Except for Blaise Zabini, who looked highly smug and rather chuffed.

For one second, Harry wondered if Draco's friends were picking on him. The thought was so inexplicably upsetting that he found himself growling as he hauled Draco to his feet. “Which one should I hex?”

“Hands off me, Potter! Er, what?” Draco asked in confusion after flinging Harry's hand away.

“There you go being an arse again, Malfoy,” Harry accused.

“Me?! _You're_ the one who keeps assaulting me!”

“Only because you deserve it!” Harry roared, flinging his hands out in front of him as if illustrating his point

It was Draco's turn to growl. “Unlike  _you_ , I can't get away with repeatedly attacking someone, so either leave me alone, or give me a reason to defend myself so I can hex you with impunity!”

Harry's stomach rumbled just then, making his body turn around and head to the great hall before he even fully thought to do so.

“Huh, I didn't think that would actually work,” Draco muttered to himself. 

However, this caught Harry's attention enough to make him forget his hunger again. He abruptly whirled around and slapped Draco so hard that the boy had no choice but to spin around slightly from the impact. He fumbled to grab his wand out of his robes.

“That. Is. It!” He roared in outrage as he pointed his wand in Harry's face, but Harry seemed to be one step ahead of Draco, using one hand to force Draco's wand arm behind him while his other hand gripped the back of Draco's head.

“Damnit it Pot-ermph,” Draco was cut off as Harry seized a kiss that was once again so possessive that Draco's mind went utterly blank.

“Harry,” Hermione tried to interrupt them. She hadn't used the word that would make Harry fall asleep yet because she had hope that the situation would resolve itself without violence, which seemed likely until this had happened so quickly that Hermione wasn't quite sure what to do. She exchanged a glance with Ron, who looked rather green and nauseous. “Harry! … _Harry!!!_ ”

This didn't break through Harry's extreme concentration, but it did manage to penetrate the fog of bliss that was clouding Draco's mind. He gathered up his wits, stomped on Harry's foot, stopped clutching the back of Harry's robes with his free hand to punch the Gryffindor in the gut, and then headbutted Harry for good measure. This made Harry stagger backwards a few steps, pressing a hand to his forehead.

“You. Stay away. From me!” Draco shouted furiously, more than a little embarrassed that (once again) his friends were giving him catty looks. It really didn't help that he seemed to lose his head the moment Harry touched him. Growling, he shoved Harry out of his way and stomped back toward the dungeon, prepared to run if Harry came after him.

But Harry was standing in the middle of the corridor with his arms crossed over his chest, staring after Draco with a baffled and broody expression.

Ron let out an aggravated sigh. “Mate?  _Stop snogging the ferret_ !”

Harry turned to look at his two best friends, who looked rather disapproving. “Is it my imagination, or did he kiss me back?” Because until Draco actually  _fought_ back, it hadn't really occurred to Harry that he normally didn't.

Blaise burst out into inappropriately gleeful laughter. “Nope! Not your imagination at all!” He and the rest of the group of Slytherins shook their heads and rolled their eyes at the sheer stubbornness of these two hotheads as they strutted toward the great hall.

His stomach reminded him all over again that he was  _starving_ , prompting Harry to march into the great hall as well. He muttered as he went. “Some friends he has, literally throwing him to the lion like that. I should hex them.” As he said this, his hand pulled out his wand and aimed it at Pansy Parkinson.

Hermione was now prepared for Harry to do something like this and grabbed Harry's arm. “I will put you to sleep if you do not sit down at our table and focus on eating  _this instant_ !”

Growling in aggravation but reminded all over again just how hungry he was, Harry followed his stomach to their table and sat down so that he could eat as much treacle as he could get his hands on. As he shoved bite after bite into his face, Ron slowly frowned harder and harder, but not about Harry's eating habits. Instead, he was no longer able to ignore a rather obvious fact.

“So... Harry... Can you tell me _why_ you kissed Malfoy? I mean the slapping I understand, he sort of deserves that for being such a slimy git, but _snogging_...”

Harry sighed a bit dreamily, actually pushing his plate slightly away as his mind was now no longer on his stomach – which was currently rather fuller than it really needed to be. “Have you seen him? He's got hair so blond it's basically white. And his eyes are the softest shade of gray. And his nose is so dainty and pointy, which draws attention to his full lips – have you noticed how plump they are? It's like each one simply  _begs_ to be kissed! And –!”

He was cut short by Ron slapping a hand over his mouth. “Alright alright! I get it! You're going to regret saying all of that in front of everyone when you regain the ability to hide things like that.”

Harry flushed and felt his eyes go wide as he realized that he had just blurted out his deepest secrets – ones so deep that he hadn't known them himself. Mortified, he leapt up from the table and ran away.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The good news is that all the wonderful suggestions have actually helped me figure out how I want this story to end :-D


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry catches Draco by the lake, and then hears Dumbledore laughing during dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, at the beginning of this chapter where I say it's been a few weeks, I don't mean that it's been a few weeks since the last chapter, but rather a few weeks since the whole thing started. I imagine that about a week (give or take) takes place between each chapter. Thus, this is only a little bit after Harry embarrassingly answered Ron's question in the great hall, lol.

It had been a few weeks since Harry lost his impulse control. When he thought back on some of his rants, he felt bad – especially when he called his friends names he didn't mean. When he was annoyed, he cried out things like: “Wanker!” Even though Ron was only asking if Harry wanted to do their homework together. Then Harry would uncontrollably blurt out: “Sorry! I meant that I hate doing homework,  _not_ that I hate you for asking!”

He could see why Hermione was concerned he'd push away everyone he loved. The problem with a lack of impulse control was that it made him so much less concerned with social expectations (such as wearing clothes in his dorm), and far too likely to blurt out things he didn't necessarily mean. Conversely, he  _also_ blurted out things he  _did_ mean, but didn't realize he meant, and sometimes, it was hard to figure out which it was.

Fred and George took full advantage of this whenever they caught him skiving off his homework. He'd sit down to do it and get a couple of paragraphs written before deciding that it was boring. He'd then take out his wand and start tapping it on any and all nearby surfaces like a drum stick – creating beats from some of his favorite songs. This was when George would grab his one arm while Fred grabbed his other, and they'd drag him to a corner of the common room.

“So, Harry, is there anything you'd like to get off your chest at the moment?”

“Umbridge made me write lines again – the stupid cow! I don't know what Fudge sees in her, although he's not really all that bright either. Voldemort keeps making me dream about a stupid door that opens into the Department of Mysteries. Dumbledore still won't look at me – it's _infuriating!_ And then there's Draco sodding Malfoy! He makes me want to wring his scrawny little neck –” He illustrated this with his hands by pretending to fiercely strangle something. “While snogging him to death!”

“That's going to be a complicated relationship,” Fred muttered with a wry grin.

“Provided the two of you ever stop trying to hex each other long enough to go on a date or something,” George added with a laugh.

“We're working on a chocolate truffle that will make a person blurt out anything that crosses their mind for about 30 seconds,” Fred informed Harry in a conspiratorial tone.

“It seems like a small dose of confession every now and then is good for the soul,” George explained with a shrug.

Harry frowned. “Maybe... I suppose if it doesn't last  _all_ the time...”

“Hey Harry!” Ron called out before the twins could respond. “Are you ready to go eat? Dinner's going to start in about ten minutes!”

“Yeah, I could eat,” Harry stated with a shrug, having realized that if he didn't wait until he was half starving, he ate less and didn't gorge himself. Hermione now also kept track of how much he was eating and distracted him if it looked like he was eating more than he'd want if he could control himself.

Along those same lines, she had given him a toy snitch. Unlike a real one, it stayed within five or so feet from it's owner. It would fly above his head, zooming around trying to avoid capture, but it wouldn't let him actually lose it. Thus, if he got distracted and walked away, it would follow him. This was good for so many reasons, and the snitch itself was good at distracting him when he saw someone that tempted him to start shouting. Surprisingly, catching the snitch was something he wanted more than even shouting at Snape. The only person he wanted to shout at more than catch the snitch was Draco.

As Harry walked over to Ron, he noticed George hastily scribble a note that he then charmed to fly off. Harry stopped and gave him a curious frown. George shrugged.

“I just remembered that we made plans to meet up with a friend from Hufflepuff for a few minutes before dinner.”

“Oh,” Harry murmured, returning his attention to Ron. The three of them made their way down to the great hall, Hermione reaching out and forcing Harry to stop about halfway up the last flight of stairs. She quickly cast a spell to cover Harry's eyes with a blindfold.

Before Harry could protest or ask why, he heard a particularly shrill laugh that almost certainly came from Pansy Parkinson. “It's the talk of the school!”

Blaise took over. “I heard it from a Fourth Year Ravenclaw girl who heard it from Seamus Finnegan, who was sitting on the other side of Weasley when he asked Potter why he kept snogging you, and Potter's answer was:  _He has hair so blond it's practically white and eyes so warm and gray and a pointy little nose that draws attention to his plump and oh so kissable lips!_ ”

Harry cringed and wished that the stairs would suddenly disappear and let him fall into an infinite abyss. He groped around until he caught hold of Hermione so that he could try to hide behind her. He also seized what he hoped was Ron's robes and yanked him so that he could provide additional – and probably more effective – cover.

“ _Potter did not say that_!” Draco yelled insistently.

“But he did!” The entire group of Slytherins insisted rather gleefully.

“Did not!”

“I DID SO!” Harry roared, unable to stop himself. He then tore the blindfold off his face and threw it to the side since he wanted to be able to see where he was going if he needed to dodge a hex.

Draco spun to gape at Harry, who was still more or less trying to hide behind his friends. “You... what...?”

Harry sincerely wished that he could restrain himself when it came to blurting out embarrassing things in front of Draco. “I did say those things! And Mione, will you please knock me out now before I say anything worse?”

“Oh no, Potter! You need to explain to me what exactly you meant!”

Harry pushed Ron and Hermione aside as he stomped down the stairs. “What do you think I meant?!”

“I think you're just trying to make fun of me, but you're going about it all wrong,” Draco stated both confidently and with a haughty glare. “I am proud of my Malfoy looks!” He stood his ground until Harry reached the second to bottom step, and then backed up quite a bit. He _definitely_ didn't want to turn his back on Harry!

“I'm not making fun of you, you arsehole! I have no idea why, but I think you're gorgeous, and I already shouted that at you once before!”

“You do not!” Draco exclaimed in a tone of mild panic and alarm, backing up even faster now as Harry himself rushed forward at a bit of a run.

“Do so! Though only Merlin knows why since you're such a bloody twat!” Harry yelled, running just a bit faster.

Draco abandoned all pretense of bravery and ran flat out, racing through the castle doors into the courtyard. He was fast because his body was tall and thin and seemed made for running or flying. Even so, Harry chased after him, staying relatively close behind. Harry had a lot of practice running from bullies and was almost as fast as Draco.

The Slytherins tried to keep up out of concern for Draco and a deep interest in seeing how this played out. Ron and Hermione chased after Harry in case this turned into a duel and/or Harry got violent and needed to be stopped. They were all soon panting heavily as Draco reached the closest part of the Black Lake and had to stop and frantically look around for a place to hide or escape. He gave serious consideration to jumping in the lake – which would still be bone chillingly frigid despite spring approaching.

Before he could figure out a course of action, Harry tackled him to the ground. “Why are you running away?!”

“Because I have a bloody mad man chasing me!” Draco roared, struggling to push Harry off of him and get back on his feet.

“I don't know why I chased you! It's like I look at you and I lose my mind!” Harry confessed, forcing Draco's hands above his head so that he could steal yet another very demanding kiss.

Draco inhaled a gasp since – despite being on the cold, hard ground – the feeling of being under Harry and at his mercy was powerfully, er... well, erotic – although he didn't want to admit that to anyone, not even himself. He surrendered almost instantly with a little moan, one of his legs curling over Harry's waist.

“Hot damn! So glad we followed after all!” Fred and George burst out in unison as they arrived on the scene. Blaise waved a hand at them, silently held up a note, and inclined his head in thanks. The twins gave him a tiny nod in return.

“ _Oh hell no_!” Ron burst out in something undefinable that was probably a mixture of annoyance and a bit of anger when he realized that Harry wasn't going to stop anytime soon, and neither was Draco. In fact, hands seemed to be roaming rather freely now on both accounts. “I'm _not_ missing my dinner to watch you make out with the ferret!” He reached down and hauled Harry off Draco, hastily aiming him at Hermione, who cast another blindfold spell on him. They dragged Harry away as he practically kicked and threw a tantrum like a toddler. Hermione threatened to either immobilize him or put him to sleep if he didn't stop resisting them.

Harry sighed in defeat and walked along quietly, now feeling embarrassed all over again by his intense feelings for and actions toward Draco. It didn't take long at all to reach the great hall. Hermione took the blindfold off when they sat down, making sure that Harry was facing away from Draco. Not that Draco and his friends had quite made it to the great hall yet. This just minimized the tendency for Harry to look over at the Slytherin table, see the boy he was fixated on, and go do something in front of everyone again. 

Harry focused on his plate, eating all the things that looked good before Hermione noticed him eating an enormous portion of a rather sugary pudding, and started talking to him about a book she had read. It kept his interest for a few minutes, but when his mind wandered, he had a strong urge to catch his snitch, prompting him to pull it out of his pocket and toss it up in the air. This kept his attention for quite some time.

Suddenly, he heard a soft and merry laugh that snagged his attention. It was from someone he hadn't actually spoke to in quite some time. Someone who... he was  _really_ fucking angry at, now that he thought about it. He stood up before he even realized he was doing it; marching up the aisle between tables until he reached the staff table. The hall fell silent, wondering who Harry was going to shout at now. Umbridge again? She seemed most likely.

“Mr. Potter?” McGonagall asked warily, glancing at first Umbridge and then Dumbledore, who was currently studying the enchanted ceiling. The sun was in the process of setting and the colors of the sky were almost divine in their glory.

“Why won't you look at me anymore?” Harry asked, pointing accusingly at the Headmaster. His toy snitch weaved back and forth in front of his finger enticingly. But Harry was too focused to pay it any mind. “You used to answer my questions patiently, but now you're avoiding me and won't even look in my direction long enough for me to wave at you!”

“Harry!” McGonagall barked sharply. “Do not speak to the Headmaster like that!”

Dumbledore held up his hand. “It's quite alright, Minerva. Harry is right, I have been avoiding him.”

“ _WHY_?!?!” Harry asked in extreme frustration.

“Because I thought that doing so might be helpful to you.”

“How in the ever loving hell would that be helpful?!” Harry demanded in extreme confusion, throwing his hands out to emphasize his point.

“I'm not sure I can explain that adequately,” Dumbledore said with a wistful sigh.

Harry howled with outrage. “You  _always_ deflect me like that! Don't you know how much I _need_ you to give me straight answers?!”

“That's true enough, Harry, and I'm sorry. You are obviously angry and have lots of questions for me. I promise to answer what I can – although you must try to understand that there are many things I cannot talk about,” Dumbledore gently reminded him.

Harry felt a momentary sense of calm as he stroked his chin in thought, trying to decide where to start. Without warning, his scar hurt him so badly that he not only gasped from the pain, but staggered backwards a few steps. He also cried out and clutched his scar for a moment before it felt like the world disappeared.

Dumbledore remained unruffled as the rest of the staff gasped in something very close to fear (which in turn caused the students to start muttering to each other nervously). Harry's eyes had turned bright red and he rose several feet in the air to hover ominously. For a few seconds, only strange hissing emerged from his mouth. His snitch looked as if it was trying to squeak in terror as it flew over and hid in Hermione's hair.

“We meet again, old man,” a harsh voice tore from Harry's mouth.

Dumbledore sighed in mild exasperation. “Tom, kindly release my student.”

“Not until I use him to bring about your end!” The voice cried out in feverish anticipation. Harry realized that he was holding his wand and pointing it at one of the people he loved most – as a sort of father figure.

“Get the fuck out of my mind, Voldemort!” Harry roared. “It's _my_ turn to yell at him, and if you want a turn of your own, you'll just have to come here and do it yourself! And don't even get me started on you trying to kill me all the goddamn time, you insane megalomaniac!”

There was more hissing as Harry bobbed up and down erratically in the air a few times. Then he shouted louder than ever. “ **Get**. **Out**.  **_Now!_ ** ”

Abruptly, Harry fell to the ground and panted heavily for a moment. “Yeah yeah, shut up!” He growled as he smacked his scar, for Voldemort was berating him in his head about his blatant disrespect. This seemed to fluster the man who  _no one **dared**_ to talk back to, especially not so flippantly, making him retreat.

Dumbledore pointed to Harry's scar. “And  _that,_ my dear boy, is why I thought it would be helpful to avoid you.”

Harry waved that away with a careless flap of his hand. He grabbed his dropped wand and stood up as if nothing had happened. Had he looked around, he would have noticed that everyone who wasn't Dumbledore was shaky and practically as pale and white as Draco normally was, and that the boy himself looked rather grey. Exhaling, he started over.

“First of all, _why_ did you leave me with the Dursleys?”

“I've told you, your mother died for you, giving you powerful protection so long as you remain with her only living blood relative.”

Harry growled in frustration. “Alright, bad question. Why did you  _leave_ me with the Dursleys once your spy Mrs. Figg reported that they didn't give a damn about me and treated me the way they do? And don't try to tell me that you didn't know! You addressed my Hogwarts letter to Mr. H. Potter, cupboard under the stairs – which means you  _knew_ that they kept me locked up and tried to bully the magic out of me!”

“I honestly thought that it would be better for you to grow up in a world in which you didn't _know_ you're famous,” Dumbledore answered sadly. “I felt that so long as you grew up more or less unharmed, the protection of your blood was far more important than...”

“Than what?” Harry demanded. “My happiness?”

Dumbledore sighed heavily. “Yes...”

“You could have left me with Remus Lupin! He would have raised me with love and wisdom! He could have taught me to protect myself! You shouldn't have let him resign! You could have also done more to help my godfather! He could have raised me too! Do you _honestly_ expect me to believe that as _Chief_ _Warlock_ , you couldn't have ordered a much better investigation?! There _had_ to be reasonable doubt! And!”

Harry half interrupted himself as he turned to pace back and forth in front of Dumbledore. “And why did you let Professor Quirrell teach here when you had to know he had Voldemort stuck to the back of his head?! Not to mention a certain nasty Professor who terrorizes the majority of the students!”

“I most certainly do not!” Professor Umbridge cried out with a great deal of umbrage.

Harry spun to glare at her. “I wasn't talking about  _ you, _ but if the shoes fits – you nasty old hag! You shouldn't be allowed near children either!”

Perhaps to stop Harry from venting against her more, Dumbledore calmly stated: “I will not allow you or anyone to question my judgment when it comes to the Professors I hire.”

Harry whirled around to face him again. “But you hired  _ Lockhart _ – probably the most brainless idiot in existence!”

Dumbledore gave him a gently quelling look. Harry was surprised to feel a little ashamed of himself for ranting at the Headmaster. However, his lack of impulse control made him continue.

“Fine! Getting back to the Dursleys, even if there was a vaguely valid reason for giving me to them to begin with,  _ why _ do you make me go back to them when I don't want to be there and they  _ clearly _ never want to see me again? And don't repeat the blood protection! Voldemort stole my blood to resurrect himself, he can touch me without being harmed now!”

“Perhaps, but the Bond of Blood Charm still offers a great deal of protection. I believe he cannot actually  _ harm _ you so long as the charm is in effect.”

“What good is that, really, when he can just get someone else to harm me? He is really determined and resourceful and he wants me dead – and why do your eyes always twinkle so mischievously?!” Harry demanded as he noticed said twinkle. “And what about your beard? Why is it so long? Who really  _ needs _ a beard that long???”

This made Dumbledore laugh merrily even as the students all gasped in astonishment that anyone would  _ dare _ to pick on their half mad and mostly beloved Headmaster. They could sort of understand the angry and anguished rant, but this just didn't make any sense. It was confusing because it really didn't fit in with the rest of it.

“The older a wizard gets, the more he just doesn't care to shave anymore, and besides, a long beard is a testimony to a long life. I  _ am _ 114 after all...” Dumbledore replied with a chuckle and that damned mischievous twinkle in his eye as he proudly stroked said beard. “As for the rest of your questions, I want to take a little time and give you a well thought out answer to them. I'll summon you to my office when I'm ready.”

“Only if it's by the end of the week,” Harry insisted. “Otherwise this is just another deflection that you don't actually intend to follow through on.”

Dumbledore smiled and huffed a tiny laugh. He nodded rather respectfully. “By the end of the week.”

Harry took a deep breath in and let out a long exhale. He felt better than he had in a while.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, there's going to be at least one more chapter, so...


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry seems to be cured so Draco might be safe...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are no real rants in this chapter, unless you count the second or two with Draco, lol :-)  
> OH! And this chapter probably crosses the line into Mature, but I can't be arsed to change the rating just yet. Let me know if you think it's absolutely necessary :-D

_ Dear Harry, I heard about you yelling at Dumbledore on my behalf. I must admit that the thought of this has kept me rather amused for hours as I wonder exactly what you said and I sincerely wish I could have heard it myself. Not even your father nor I ever had the bollocks to do such a thing! That said, I feel I should clarify something: I do not blame Dumbledore for what happened, nor should you. There are two people who by  _ far _ deserve the blame for that. I miss you and can't wait to see you again, Snuffles. _

Harry set the letter aside and lay thinking. He was in bed, and to his surprise, he'd been mostly calm and in control since his rant at Dumbledore. He still blurted out things sometimes when asked and didn't seem to care about nudity in general, but all in all, he seemed... almost cured...

Closing his eyes, he let his mind wander. Random thoughts drifted by for a while until they were replaced by cold gray eyes glaring at him. The image shifted until Harry saw a pale face with a vibrantly red hand print. Harry imagined himself kissing that print softly, soothingly, so that it faded away.

Then the image shifted again, showing Harry a pale bare chest with a glowing hand print on it. Harry imagined kissing that one too. The chest moved, turning around to show a back with a red hand on it too. Harry kissed that one before licking curiously up along the bumpy ridges of the spine.

This seemed to draw his attention to the soft white globes of an arse. Harry stared at the arse, not quite sure what to do with it for a long time. Then he abruptly reached out and slapped the right cheek, creating a hand print so vivid and glowing that it almost seemed to pulse like a heartbeat. Harry bent over to kiss it, only to whimper in disappointment when it faded. So he slapped the perfect cheek again, purring happily when the mark reappeared.

Meanwhile, his hands were busy stroking his shaft and balls. He wasn't being particularly fast or determined, but even so, the sight of that hand print had him gasping and groaning as he squirted out a mess that covered his stomach and chest.

“Sounds like Harry's ready to go to sleep now,” Seamus snickered softly.

“D'you s'pose he was thinking about Malfoy again?” Dean wondered in a clearly heckling whisper.

“Probably,” Seamus answered with a shrug.

“Definitely,” Harry sighed dreamily as he rolled onto his side and pulled the blanket over his naked body. “G'night all.”

“Night Harry,” Ron returned, sounding like he was purposely  _ not _ acknowledging that he'd heard Harry say anything iffy.

Harry was out before the rest of them finished saying their good nights.

 

***

 

The next time Harry ran across Draco, it was once again on the way to the great hall – this time for breakfast. Draco was chuckling under his breath as Crabbe and Goyle tossed a book back and forth that obviously belonged to the First Year Hufflepuff that was nearly in tears because he couldn't do anything to get them to stop. Without thinking, Harry burst into a rather dangerous run (considering the way the stairs constantly moved).

Ron and Hermione sighed in defeat, jogging lightly to follow him but not actually in a rush to stop him at the moment. Draco looked up and noticed Harry when Harry leapt off the third stair from the bottom. He landed just a few feet from Draco, prompting the boy to back up warily, only he was right in front of a wall and lightly banged his head against it.

“How dare you?!” Harry asked in outrage, slapping Draco.

Draco pressed a hand to his face and growled. “ME?! I'm not even doing anything!”

“Yes you are! You're  _ letting _ your lackeys bully a defenseless kid!  _ And you're laughing _ !” Harry cried out emphatically, flinging one hand out toward said bullies to illustrate his point.

Draco opened his mouth to retort that he didn't control what Crabbe and Goyle did, but then shut it again when he realized that that would be so close to a lie that it would be laughable. He settled for glaring at Harry for a moment before slapping him back.

“ _ That's _ for continually assaulting me!”

Harry glared in return for a moment before turning his attention toward the goons. Without warning, he gasped and pointed at something behind and well above them. They spun around to look.

“What???”

Harry grabbed the book out of Crabbe's hand and thrust it at the Hufflepuff, who snatched it and ran off with a shrieked: “Thanks, Harry Potter!”

Draco was still glaring at Harry, who sneered at him for a moment before whirling toward the great hall. This took Draco aback so much that he nearly fell over. “Wait! That's it?!”

Harry stopped and looked over his shoulder, firmly ignoring the fact that  _ both _ Ron and Hermione were softly sniggering. “What more do you want, Malfoy?”

“I, er – nothing!” Draco insisted with a growl, his cheeks suspiciously pink.

Harry smirked. “Don't tell me you  _ want _ me to snog you.”

“No!” Draco practically yelped, his glare darkening.

Harry chuckled, grabbed him, and roughly hauled him close for a breath stealing kiss. He broke it off  _ just _ when it felt like Draco melted, his knees going a bit weak. “ _ That's _ because you asked so prettily. Begged me really.”

“Did not!” Draco protested with a hot blush. He pushed Harry away hard enough to make him stagger backward and almost fall, and then stormed toward the great hall.

Crabbe and Goyle were both scratching their heads. Goyle tilted his head toward Crabbe. “Are we supposed to stop Potter or not?”

Crabbe shrugged and shook his head, making a sound that resembled  _ I dunno _ . They both jogged after Draco before he got too far away. Harry and his friends followed them at a much more sedate pace.

Ron hummed and stroked his chin in thought. “Hmm... I really thought you were cured, or back in control, or whatever.”

“I sort of thought so too,” Harry replied with a shrug.

“But you still want to slap and snog Malfoy...”

Harry let out a heavy sigh. “I guess I do.”

Hermione laughed. “That should probably tell you something.”

Harry thought this over as they reached their table and took a seat. “That I... That I sort of...  _ like _ kissing him?”

“Seems like,” Hermione stated with an amused grin.

Harry shook his head. “I don't think that's it. I dreamt about him covered in bright red hand prints last night.”

Hermione blushed even as she laughed a bit harder. “ _ That _ should probably tell you something too!”

Harry blushed and felt his eyes go unfocused. He hummed softly in thought, feeling dreamy as he remembered his fantasy. His humming turned to a low moan.

“Ugh! Mate, not while I'm eating!” Ron protested in disgust.

Fred and George arrived just then, sitting across the table from them and casting curious looks at Harry. “What's with him?” They asked their younger brother.

Ron stuck his tongue out in revulsion. “He's thinking about ferret face again.”

“He's got it bad,” George remarked with a sympathetic grin.

“Bad,” Fred agreed with a nod.

“Very,” Hermione added with little giggle.

“ _ Oh _ ...” Ron droned for a moment in sudden understanding. “Yeah, I guess he does...”

Harry was far too busy with his thoughts to hear them or even eat. He didn't even notice if there was a plate in front of him or food on it. It wasn't until Hermione shoved a glass of pumpkin juice in his hand and ordered him to stop drooling that he realized that people were giving him funny looks and Draco was scowling at him – his gaze flickering suspiciously to those around Harry, which now included Ginny, who was running her hand through his hair in an attempt to get it to behave a little.

Their eyes locked, both frowning at the other. Harry had no idea what Draco was thinking but the look on his face was confusing. He almost seemed... jealous... But that had to be wishful thinking. Draco realized that he was staring at Harry and broke the gaze by flickering his eyes to Ginny for half a second before looking away completely.

Weird...

 

***

 

“Good news, Mr. Potter, I'm fairly sure you're cured,” Madam Pomfrey announced at his next check up. “I cannot be certain, but I think that whatever that third spell was, it must have been miscast and twisted by frustration and anger. My diagnostics showed that you were surrounded by a red haze which effected your magic, and that seems to be gone now.”

Harry frowned at her in confusion even as his friends softly congratulated him. “Er... Then why do I still want to strangle Malfoy?”

Madam Pomfrey snorted in amusement. “I'm fairly certain that's just normal teenage hormones.”

“Normal?” Harry questioned in disbelief.

Chuckling, she nodded. “Yes. Especially when the strangling is accompanied by snogging and  _ Merlin's filthy mouth _ ! I need to stop talking before you get even  _ more _ ideas!”

Harry raised a brow at her until he fully processed the concept of strangling accompanied by snogging. Then he went unfocused and dreamy again.

 

***

 

Dumbledore summoned Harry to his office that evening and answered all his questions the best he could, but Harry realized that he didn't care about the answers so much. He still appreciated them, but they weren't the truly important thing. The important thing had been  _being able_ to ask them in the first place. Being shut out and avoided had hurt so much that it had filled him with anger which had built up until he finally got a chance to express it. Now that he had, he felt calm again.

 

***

 

“Hiya Harry, care to test this for us?” George asked with a grin. Fred held out a chocolate truffle.

“Er...” Harry hesitated.

“It's alright,” Fred insisted. “We tested it on each other and it only lasts between 30 seconds and a minute. You'll blurt out what's on your mind –” 

“Fred had some interesting thoughts about Angelina.”

“As did George,” Fred added. “Then you'll go back to normal.”

“We reckon you'll be able to tell if it's the same or different than what you went through.”

“Plus, there can't possibly be anything on your mind we don't already know,” Fred finished.

“Yeah, alright,” Harry murmured with a shrug. He took the half-inch squared truffle and shoved it in his mouth. His first thought was that it was really tasty. “Mmm...”

He didn't seem to think anything at all for a moment. Then he blurted out: “Malfoy!”

“What about him?” George asked with interest.

“I want to snog him senseless.”

Both twins nodded with expressions that suggested they were expecting exactly that. “And how do you feel?”

“Horny,” Harry stated, then flushed in embarrassment.

“We meant, is the truffle making you ill or –” Fred was cut off as Harry practically jumped to his feet and ran out of Gryffindor Tower. “Oi!” He and George raced after Harry, George keeping an eye on his watch. It was nearing 30 seconds. 

Just before the one minute mark, Harry stopped short and looked around. After a moment, he started pacing and muttering to himself. “I can't just go snog him...”

“Why not?” The twins asked with matching grins.

“He's a bastard and a prat and an arse and –”

“Yeah, but _aside_ from all that.”

“He's a Slytherin!” Harry roared.

“Talking about me, Potter?” Draco asked with a raised brow as he and his posse of year mates rounded the corner on their way to the Transfiguration classroom to practice in during their free hour.

Harry inhaled rather sharply. “No!!!”

Draco frowned is disbelief. “ _Riiiight..._ ”

“Need another truffle, Harry?” Fred offered helpfully.

“No!” Harry declined with a blush.

“So... You've stopped assaulting me then?” Draco drawled distrustfully.

“Yeah...” Harry murmured, flinching a little in shame. “Sorry...”

Draco harrumphed and stepped to the side so he could walk around Harry. He barely made it a step when Blaise grabbed him and shoved him into Harry's arms.

“Ack!” Draco's yelp of surprise was swallowed by Harry, who's inner Gryffindor took over the moment the object of his desire was in his grasp. They both sort of purred and melted into each other. All their friends (except Crabbe and Goyle, who still weren't sure if they were supposed to defend Draco) wondered how long the two would be at it before one of them remembered they supposedly hated each other.

Ron and Hermione arrived, having rushed to be on hand if needed once they'd spotted Harry with Draco on his map. They now stood there indecisively. It really seemed like they should insist everyone else leave the two boys alone. The problem was that they didn't think the Slytherins _or_ Fred and George would listen to them.

Harry backed Draco up into a wall, provoking a pleased moan from the gorgeous blond. He groped Harry's arse, which made Harry return the favor, their mouths still joined in a highly passionate kiss that made those watching them cross their legs and squirm uncomfortably. Expect for Blaise and Pansy, who looked quite avid.

Without really discussing or even thinking about it, Draco wrapped his legs around Harry's waist and Harry helped Draco do so by lifting and holding him by his arse. It was when Draco started unbuttoning Harry's shirt that Hermione decided that she'd be a _terrible_ friend (not to mention Prefect) if she didn't at least _try_ to remind Harry that he had an audience.

“Ahem... Harry. _Harry_! You've got seven Slytherins, four Gryffindors, and at least a dozen other students from other Houses watching you,” she called out, looking around at the crowd that was gathering. “Harry! You _can't_ do this out in the open like this!”

When Draco finished opening Harry's shirt and slid his hands around to Harry's back, Blaise and Pansy exchanged an amused smirk, and then started making sounds of approval. Fred and George immediately joined in, which encouraged almost everyone else to join in. Crabbe and Goyle now looked rather nauseous – as did Ron – and Hermione looked exasperated.

“Harry!” Hermione snapped sharply.

Perhaps ironically, it wasn't her concerned voice that broke through the haze of lust surrounding them, it was the catcalls and chants of encouragement that made Harry wonder if he was passed out on the Quidditch Pitch and only dreaming this. He pulled back and looked into Draco's eyes to see if they could tell him whether this was real or not.

“Aww! Don't stop now!” Blaise called out in disappointment.

“Yes Harry, stop now!” Hermione insisted.

Harry heard her this time and blushed. Draco went alarmingly red when he realized the position he was in. He pushed Harry away, stumbling when he was abruptly no longer being supported by the sexily disheveled boy.

“What d'you think you're doing, Potter?!” Draco demanded indignantly.

This actually made Harry laugh. “Snogging the hell out of you. Besides...” He glanced significantly at his open shirt.

“That wasn't me!” Draco denied with a hot blush. He pushed Harry aside so that he could make an escape.

Harry watched him walk away a few steps in confusion. Not once had Draco actually _said_ anything that implied he liked what was happening between them – snogging wise – but his actions were highly telling. It seemed like the moment Harry touched him, he lost his mind too.

With each step away, Draco recovered just a little bit more of his dignity and composure. His posse turned to follow him, every single one of them (except for Crabbe and Goyle) giving him catty and smugly _knowing_ looks. He thrust his nose in the air and ignored them at first.

“So... what's it like making out with Harry bloody Potter?” Blaise asked eagerly.

“Oh shut it!” Draco told him off.

This made Harry chuckle. Draco was almost to the Transfiguration classroom, probably using it as the quickest escape despite the fact that he'd been headed there originally. With a smirk, Harry called out: “Oi, Malfoy! How would you like to be covered in nothing but my hand prints?”

Draco stopped walking so abruptly that he nearly fell over. He whipped around to gape at Harry, incoherent stuttering falling from his mouth. His eyes were wide and he genuinely could not speak, and it had nothing to do with the fact that he was now panting and gasping for breath while his heart raced.

Blaise roared with laughter. “I'd say that's a yes!”

“Bold question, Harry!” The twins cried out approvingly.

Ron was now blushing almost redder than Draco, weakly protesting: “Mate...”

Hermione was mildly unfocused, as if she was thinking this suggestion over very carefully and liked the mental images.

“If he says no, Potter, I'll volunteer!” Pansy exclaimed cheekily.

“Me too,” several others muttered around them. The crowd was up to about three or four dozen now.

Draco took a deep breath and forced himself to blurt out: “In your dreams, you kinky and twisted bastard!” After that, he fled into the classroom. Before his friends finished laughing enough to follow him, he wrote and sent a note charmed to fly over to Harry.

_Don't ask me such things in front of others, Potter! Meet me in the prefects bathroom at half ten._

When Harry finished reading the note, he couldn't help but grin like an idiot. It now looked like he was in for a very interesting evening!

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry meets Draco in the Prefects' bathroom for a little slap happy fun :-)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter definitely ups the rating to E, lol.  
> So, at the very beginning, there's something I actually did when I was 18, but I honestly don't know how to explain it so that it makes sense, lol. Thus if you are confused, it's all my fault. Don't worry, the rest is still pretty hot ^_^  
> And then (warning) there's some against, so be prepared for that :-)

“Just to be clear, I still hate you, Potter,” Draco stated the moment Harry walked into the Prefect's bathroom.

“Good, 'cuz I hate you too,” Harry replied as he tossed his bag aside.

“I'm only here because you seem willing to get me off, and really, who would say no to that?” Draco added, now looking aloof – although his clenched fists betrayed his actual nervousness.

“Exactly,” Harry stated in agreement. “So... Do you plan for us to have a bath first?”

Draco glanced toward the bath. “Well, if things go according to plan, we should probably save the bath for after.”

“Alright,” Harry agreed. Since he had apparently lost all modesty during his lack of impulse control, he started stripping off. Draco watched him with interest for a few seconds before slowly unbuttoning his own shirt.

“ _Merlin_ you're scrawny! I have no idea what I see in you!” Draco blurted out when he saw how Harry's ribs were clearly visible on his short frame.

Harry shrugged since he didn't see anything when he looked in the mirror that looked attractive. “Come here so I can kiss you while you finish undressing.”

“Who do you think you are, to order me about?”

Harry rolled his eyes and took a step forward so that he could slap Draco. “Stop being such a prat!”

Draco pursed his lips but didn't say anything for a moment. This slap hadn't been very hard, so he was mildly disappointed if he was being honest. “I'll be a prat if I want to, and there's nothing you can do about it!”

“Oh really?” Harry asked in a tone of challenge. He grabbed Draco, who was down to his pants by this point, and pulled him close for a demanding but relatively brief kiss. He cupped Draco's buttocks with both hands. “In case you forgot, you agreed to meet me here so that I could cover you in my hand prints. I think _that_ might curb your tendency to be a prat somewhat.”

Draco snorted in amusement. “Just shows what you know, Potter! I could probably be a prat with my dying breath if I wanted. Planning to murder me?”

“Never, Malfoy. I'm no murderer,” Harry assured him.

Draco shrugged that off. “So, here's how this is going to work, for every hit you make, I get to return the favor.”

“How do you mean?” Harry wondered curiously.

“For example, you slapped me, so...” Draco hauled back and slapped Harry – harder than this one had been but not so hard that Harry staggered or was forced to turn his head.

“Hmm...” Harry hummed in thought as he pressed a hand to his cheek. He sort of liked the way it felt; a light stinging that added to the anticipation zinging through his body. “Alright. I, er, had a dream in which you were covered in my hand prints, so I think I'll start here.” Harry pointed to Draco's chest. At Draco's nod of acceptance, Harry slapped his palm onto the Slytherin's left pectoral, pressing and holding his hand there for a few seconds. Then he peeled his hand away to see if there was a red mark, which there was. He bent to kiss and lick the print before giving Draco a kiss as a sort of reward.

Draco shivered slightly from how erotic that had felt. He quickly returned the slap and the kisses – the first time _he_ had kissed Harry, as opposed to simply (and disconcertingly eagerly) returning the kisses. For the next fifteen or twenty minutes, they exchanged a multitude of blows. Light ones and hard. Some barely stung and some made them gasp. Some turned their skin red and some would even bruise. _All_ of them felt unexpectedly good.

After a particularly hard blow that made Draco gasp and groan rather erotically, Harry kissed the spot before swirling his tongue around Draco's left nipple. Then he forced Draco to turn around, bend over slightly, and brace himself against a sink.

“I want to spank you,” Harry informed him.

“A-a-alright...” Draco murmured, breathing heavily and so turned on that he might have agreed to be shagged in front of everyone in the great hall if Harry asked.

With a groan of longing, Harry set about turning Draco's pale white arse a lovely shade of red that nearly glowed. At random, he smacked a part of Draco's back hard enough to leave a clear hand print. Each time he did so, he inhaled a sizzling breath and moaned, and all the while, Draco was making the most delicious noises as he squirmed just a little.

“God! I'm going to wank to this every night for the rest of my life!” Harry cried out when he realized he was so very close to orgasm despite his shaft not having been touched.

“My turn now?” Draco asked as he tried to get a good look over his shoulder.

“Yeah...” Harry agreed, now wondering if it felt as good to receive as it had to give. When he was braced against the sink, he watched in the mirror as Draco spanked him. This was also highly erotic, making Harry moan and sway his hips a little to encourage the gorgeous blond.

Harry was soon shaking and _oh so close._ Draco also looked like he could finish just _looking_ at the hand prints on Harry's naturally tanner skin. He stopped abruptly and groaned as he rested his head on Harry's back.

“Did you just...?” Harry wondered.

“No, but I'm so close and...” He trailed off with a blush.

Harry felt his heart stop. “Oh God! You want to shag me, don't you?!”

“Well, yeah...” Draco admitted, not quite able to look Harry in the eye.

“I – I – I've n-never done any-anything like that!” Harry stammered, his heart now racing in something close to panic.

Draco bit his lip and took a deep breath. “Neither have I, I just... I'm so turned on right now and isn't that what you're _supposed_ to do when, when... well... this...?

Harry decided that he couldn't let himself think about this at all, otherwise he turn tail and run away like a coward. So, he gently placed his hands on Draco's chest before sliding them around to his back. Then he pressed a soft and tentative kiss to those plump and lush lips. Draco whined faintly in longing as he wrapped his arms around Harry and intensified the kiss tenfold.

To Harry's relief, that blissful fog rolled over him again, making his mind go blank. Draco just barely had the presence of mind to walk backwards and lead Harry over to a pile of towels on the floor he'd prepared before Harry arrived. Gently tugging on Harry, Draco got to his knees, and then on his back, pulling Harry on top of him and doing his best not to break the kiss. For the moment, just having a cushioned place to get comfortable as they snogged was enough. Strangely, Draco liked having Harry's weight on him. It made him feel calm even as his mind went blank with bliss and his body cried out for more.

Harry had a sudden urge to try something he had either read about in one of Seamus' dirty magazines, or heard about from one of the older Gryffindor boys. Pulling back just a bit, he scrunched up his face in thought until he remember the spell to conjure oil. Then he did so until he had enough to coat both their thighs a lot. Lastly, he adjusted their shafts so that they were between each others legs. Draco watch him curiously until everything was ready and then...

_Ohhhhh_ .....

That felt  _glorious_ !

Their heavy snogging resumed, only now, they were grinding together in a way that felt a lot like sex. Like being inside someone – not that either had anything to compare it to. All too soon, Draco felt as if the entire world was spinning. He clung to Harry, crying out almost breathlessly as he felt his climax hit him like a lava flow rolling over him.

When Harry realized what was happening, he felt like he was punched in the stomach by pure pleasure. He gasped as his body shook and what felt like an ocean pumped out onto the towels under them. Quite suddenly, he felt like all his energy deserted him, making him collapse onto Draco. Both boys felt like pudding as they panted in relative silence for several long minutes. Then Draco started to get uncomfortable.

“Er, Potter, can you get off me?”

“Yeah...” Harry murmured in agreement as he summoned up the energy to roll over.

Draco slipped into the tub and did his best not to drown from boneless lethargy as he washed up. Harry eventually had the strength to join him. Both felt more than a little awkward now that they were done.

“So... er... same time next week?” Harry asked hopefully.

Draco gave him a hint of a soft smile. “Yeah.”

For the rest of the year, nothing really changed between them. They were still rather antagonistic the majority of the time, and Harry still found plenty of reasons to slap Draco and tell him to stop being an arse. Draco reacted differently each time; sometimes ducking or blocking it, sometimes slapping (or punching) Harry in return, and sometimes catching him and pushing him away. Always shouting at him indignantly.

No one who witnessed these encounters could quite decide if they were flirting or fighting. Yet, every week, they met up in the Prefects' bathroom and vented their frustrations on each other in a highly satisfying way. Each encounter ended with them agreeing that:

“I still hate you!” Growled between hasty kisses goodbye.

At the end of the year, Harry had a sort of Battle in the Department of Mysteries which resulted in Lucius Malfoy – among others – in Azkaban. This prompted Draco to march up to Harry in the Great Hall during lunch and punch him in front of everyone while the two shouted at each other until they were pulled apart by their Heads of House.

Things didn't seem any better when they returned for their Sixth Year. Draco was still mad at Harry and stomped on his nose before covering him with the invisibility cloak and leaving him on the Hogwarts express. Harry retaliated by slapping him as hard as he could the next time he saw him relatively alone. They  _didn't_ meet up in the Prefect's bathroom and ended up in a heated scuffle practically every time they saw each other. The same argument was repeated over and over until almost everyone could quote it by heart.

“God! Why are you such an arse?!”

“Why are you such an arrogant bastard?!”

“I hate you!”

“I hate you more!”

“I hate you the most!”

“Oh real mature, Potter!”

Blaise was the only one who wasn't ready to murder them both and be done with it. He found their fighting funny. “Oi, just go shag already!”

“Here here!” Pansy roared in agreement.

Hermione was beyond exasperated. “Stop fighting before I hex you both!”

McGonagall was ready to expel them despite the fact that they usually weren't caught in the act. Just hearing the rumors was enough. Not to mention, she was tired of watching them glare daggers at each other across the classroom and great hall. She and Snape argued heavily over which of them was the actual problem.

Dumbledore looked equal parts concerned and amused by their animosity. During one of Harry's private lessons, he confessed that he once had a friend who could have been a lover but turned into an enemy. He sincerely prayed that Harry and Draco could work out their differences in the end.

Then life seemed to fall completely apart for a while. Dumbledore died. Voldemort took over the Ministry. Harry had to go on the run.  _Finally_ , Harry defeated Voldemort in a final battle that nearly destroyed the castle. After it was all over, Harry sat – utterly exhausted – in the great hall, wanting nothing more than to go to sleep for at least three days.

Draco sat huddled in a corner with his parents until he spotted Harry sitting on a bench with Luna Lovegood. He practically leapt to his feet, making his parents wonder if someone was about to attack them. Pointing emphatically across the hall, he roared:

“Oi! Potter!” He marched toward Harry in determination.

“What in the buggering hell do _you_ want, Malfoy?” Harry demanded as he got to his feet and stomped toward Draco. Everyone inhaled a gasp as they feared another fight was going to break out in just two seconds.

When Draco and Harry arrived in front of each other, Draco hauled back and slapped Harry. “I don't care if you  _did_ defeat the buggering Dark Lord, I still hate you and I want to go on hating you for the rest of my sodding life!” He shouted.

“I bloody hate you too – Wait! _Is that a proposal_?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Well duh!” Draco sneered, putting his hands on his hips and staring Harry down.

“Thank fuck!” Harry cheered as he threw his arms around Draco and hugged him tight.

“Is that a yes?” Draco wondered with a raised brow.

“Well duh!” Harry exclaimed before kissing Draco so demandingly that they both had to cling to each other to avoid melting into a puddle on the floor.

“It's about damn time!” Ron roared, flinging his arms out toward them in exasperation. “Harry's done nothing but brood and whinge since you two broke up in Fifth Year!”

“Yeah!” Neville called out in agreement. “It drove us _all_ bloody _mad_!”

Other students cried out in agreement. They all started to applaud softly in congratulation. Some of them even muttered well wishes for the couple.

McGonagall harrumphed. “I trust this means the two of you will stop brawling all over the castle, not that either of you will  _be_ in the castle anymore. And isn't that a happy thought? I wish you the utmost luck in your relationship. Now get the fu – ahem – get out of the great hall before you end up giving us all a show we sincerely do not wish to see!”

This managed to penetrate the bliss surrounding them, making them both blush. They pulled apart. Draco stared at the floor in shame while Harry grinned cheekily at his Head of House.

“Yes Professor!” He agreed eagerly, grabbing Draco's arm and dragging him toward the exit of the hall.

“Now see here! Wait just a moment!” Lucius roared in protest. He was still rather gobsmacked from where he stood next to his wife – who was smirking softly.

“Sorry, but no!” Harry stated. He yanked his cloak out of his robes and swirled it around them. Now invisible, they left the castle to start on the rest of their life together. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I know! That's one of those internet memes, so I don't actually own the idea, but I *really* wanted to work it into one of my stories and this seemed to be the perfect one :-D


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A recording of me reading Chapter One. Since I'm American, I'm terrible at British accents, lol, thus I didn't even try. I hope you enjoy :-D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I didn't get your hopes up, lol! This is not a new chapter, just a reading of the first one. I do plan to record and upload the rest of the chapters soon :-D
> 
> I was a bit nervous as I read this, so my voice wobbles a little from time to time. Sorry!
> 
> I'd love comments letting me know if you liked this reading :-)

[Me Reading Chapter One on YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AIRsEFQjCs4&feature=youtu.be)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Me reading Chapter Two of this story on Youtube

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said, I am going to record and upload all the chapters of this story. I sincerely apologize for the one or two times my voice wavers as I'm reading, I'm nervous and still getting used to reading for an audience, lol :-)

[Reading Chapter Two](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pEcpmoCHm08)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Me reading chapter three of this fanfic :-)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I just couldn't do Snape justice, lol :-)

[Me Reading Chapter Three on Youtube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8q4U4aX1q7I)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will eventually read and post the rest :-)


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Me reading Chapter 4 on Youtube

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had to record this almost a dozen times to get it almost right and finally just decided to roll with it, lol :-)

[Me reading Chapter 4 on Youtube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S1n3sygom90)


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